Destroy your elevator pitch. Please.

Do you have an elevator pitch? You know, a 30-second speech that showcases what you do and why you’re so bankable??

Great.?

Kindly please destroy it.?

You are not a product or a pitch. You’re a friggin’ storyteller and you don’t want to do business with anyone who thinks it’s cool to have conversations in an elevator. What horrible nonsense is this, this mindset which suggests that business opportunities are SO SCARCE you have to nab someone’s attention IN AN ELEVATOR? Elevators are for staring awkwardly at the floor, pretending to read something in a notebook, and surreptitiously adjusting bra straps.

You are not an elevator pitcher. You are not selling. You are TELLING. And nothing is more antithetical to storytelling than distilling a human down to a minute of marketable points.?

I’m not saying it’s a bad idea to rehearse your introductions before a conference or finely hone your biography. Frankly, more people probably should. I can’t be the only writer who has set aside 15 minutes to chat with a source and asked something simple like “Who are your primary customers?” only to get a half-hour spiel about family history (including that time great-grandpa ran off with his sister-in-law), only to learn that A.) They are a simple bakery. B.) They specialize in old-fashioned cookies and C.) As such, they cater to a lot of nursing home soirees.?

A much better way to envision the necessity of clearly and succinctly describing your work is to imagine running into two very different kinds of people. One is a dear but casual friend, the type of person you see every few years at a conference, and you only manage to squeeze in a few seconds together in a crowded hallway while heading to different breakout rooms. “Quick,” she says, “Give me the scoop on what you’re working on these days. I love hearing about your plans!” How can you fill her in but still have ample time to hear her news??

The other is definitely not a friend. Imagine running into your ex's mother, the woman who was always like, “Oh, are you still writing?” In fact, she’ll probably ask you that exact question, in precisely that bitchy tone of hers, when you see her next. You do not want to be flustered. You do not want to be uncertain. You do not want to waste one more word on her than necessary. So how can you fill her in and make your quick escape, leaving her speechless in your wake??

Somewhere between these two imaginary encounters is your new “elevator pitch,” but we won’t call it that anymore. To hell with elevators. You need an ESCALATOR pitch, a story to share whether you’re gliding on up in life or walking up one weirdly placed step at a time.

By all means, seek out some elevator pitch exercises if you’re struggling to clarify what you’re doing and who you’re doing it for. But let’s send the mindset that you need to brand yourself but never be yourself, not for a second, not even in the relative peace of an elevator, down to the scary basement where it belongs.

If you want to talk about growing your business in a human-centered way, please join in my year-end planning workshop on December 8th. Because I am NOT going to start the day by saying “So! Give us the elevator version of who you are.”